Preying On Our Kind
Phil Mills, November 2009
TTTO: Gentle On My Mind
      by John Hartford

It's knowin' that the forest's full of monsters
And our parents' plans are vile
That makes me want to leave a breadcrumb trail
Strewn out along the path back home,
And it's knowin' we're abandoned
To the random whims of chance
And the lure of gingerbread among the pines
That leaves me feeling vengeful
'Bout the scheming of step-mothers,
The way you're always preying on our kind.

I'm not clingin' to a hope of fleeing
Now that cakes and candy form my diet
And locked inside a stable, I expand
Because there's little space for walkin',
But I'm thinkin' that my mood
Will have me cursing, not forgiving,
If I ever make it home again to find
That I'm still feeling vengeful
'Bout the scheming of step-mothers
And the hours you spend preying on our kind.

Through the briars and the brambles
(Yes, that's lifted from another song to tease you)
And by duck-enabled crossing of the river
My smart sis and I have gone.
I've turned hyperglycaemic,
Candy colours stain my face,
And the heat from ovens burned me 'til I'm blind,
But though we crisped the cannibal,
I'm left forever vengeful
By your scheming, plotting, preying on our kind.

I took one cup of poison from
A gurglin' cracklin' cauldron in her kitchen.
I brought it home to give him,
Saying, "Trust me; only sweets come from that place."
As he drinks from the tin can,
I pretend I am forgiving, but I find
I'm not only feeling vengeful
'Bout the scheming of step-mothers,
But Dads who watch them preying on our kind.